


Pack Animals

by Aeris_Blue



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Discrimination, Gaster Blaster AU, Giant Dogs, Magic, Magic Blood, Non-Graphic Violence, Wartime, Werewolf AU, Werewolf Bites
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28289499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeris_Blue/pseuds/Aeris_Blue
Summary: The story of three brothers and a flame all trying to find their place in the world.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 30





	1. First Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays! Have some werewolves-- wait what?

An axe cut through the air in a blur to connect with the center of his blade so harshly he had no choice but to kneel and pray his own metal wouldn’t crack under the weight of such a blow. Grillby shouted to muster up the nerve he needed to push back then lunged forward pressing his shoulder against his human enemies abdomen. He pulled his sword forward and followed through making a clean cut through their padded armor. The human dropped at his feet curling over his wound which gave Grillby a second to breath. 

The mountain-like canyon seemed like a labyrinth, even if they hadn’t been ambushed he wondered if they would have found their way out. He was certainly at a loss when it came to directions. It was a long ways from where they last set up camp, they couldn’t go back there now anyways. On the way in one of their carts caught just the right stone to cave in their entrance. There was probably another way out somewhere but they weren’t exactly available to search for one at the moment. A sword tip just barely missed his shoulder and he was forced back into the mindset of the soldier who had to see tomorrow no matter what.

Far overhead the sun began to bless its heat upon them in waves that hovered around the battle to curiously observe the suits of armor. Where the sun only excited Grillby, lightened his steps, and allowed his magic to burn at its best he watched his comrades' movements grow heavier and heavier. This battle needed to end before they were completely exhausted. They still had to get through this canyon after all but it didn’t seem like the otherside was going to retreat anytime soon.

What could he do? What could they do?

He was torn from his thoughts as the earth began to rumble subtly but enough to cause hesitancy in both armies. No clanking of swords against armor, or grunts as weapons were thrust, just a terrifying moment where monsters and humans were unified in caution. 

When finally time resumed its turning of hands a bright white light blinded them all. Large rocks tumbled recklessly from the cliff sides crushing humans and monsters alike in their fall.

A terrifying howl echoed along the walls before another bright white light cast more stone upon them. The commanders ordered a retreat but the soldiers were too stunned to truly listen. Humans and monsters ran about the canyon path turning into a giant mob of confusion. Bodies pushed against Grillby leaving him at a loss for where he was but he did his best to keep his eyes pinned on where that light had come from.

He pushed himself further along until he was finally free of the swirling mass of frantic bodies. Now he could see the impressive crater the blast had left in the solid canyon stone. They were about as deep as his elbow and burned hotter than he ever had. He traced the edges of the cliff with his eyes and shook the residual heat from the attack out of his hand. What sort of creature could do this?

A strange howl caused his soul to flutter in his chest in an uncomfortable manner that he attempted to sooth with his hand over his chest. Whatever could manage an attack like this had to be more dangerous to them than even the human army. If they had angered such a creature it may choose to hunt them and then what would happen?

He looked back to the sea of soldiers trying to dash back to the canyon’s sealed entrance. The humans didn’t know that though and in their panic it didn’t seem the monsters remembered. Which meant the next battle was going to be right where they came in at. He knew that his commander would demand he be there, that his place was back with the monster camp, but whatever it was that made this blast sent a sense of terror down his spine he’d never known. Just the thought such a thing could exist made him swallow hard but he used the fear to push himself up towards the top of the cliffs.

Loose stone crumpled under his grip, his feet struggled for something, anything, secure, but nothing sent him back down to the canyon floor. He didn’t think he’d ever climbed anything quite this tall before but he had troubles being excited by the development when he didn’t know what he would meet at the top. 

His fingers wrapped around a landing and as he stretched to feel the surface he realized it was at least big enough for him to sit. With a grunt he pulled himself up by his elbows then slid on his stomach up to the landing. He rolled onto his back to catch his breath once he was certain the ledge was sturdy enough to support him. 

The landing he was on was actually rather large; he could stretch his hands out to either side comfortably. So he didn’t have to worry about falling but the giant cave carved out of the cliffside seemed like the perfect place for a beast to lurk. He positioned himself on his knees before standing on wobbly feet.

Despite the high hanging sun the moment he stepped into the cavern he found himself surrounded by darkness, well, as much as someone like him could be. He brightened his glow to light his way and hopefully ward the beast away until he could get his bearings. His breath faltered as he stepped further into the cave, the den, where the beast was dwelling.

The flames along the top of his head began to jut out wickedly in warning to the eyes he felt upon him. He drew his sword and it was accompanied by a sound akin to sliding rocks on the stone. Whatever it was knew what a sword meant but still he pressed deeper into the cave waiting for the creature to pounce.

His foot caught on a small stone that sat long and cylindrical under his boot. Curious he bent down more than a little surprised to see a simple piece of chalk in the center of the deep cavern. Actually, he looked over the floor to find various scribbles and the start of crudely drawn letters that might have been words. He left the chalk there, his white eyes burning bright.

Had the beast stolen a child? He had heard reports of such things but surely it would have just eaten the captive. Unless the words were a plea for help, he turned back to the scribbles on the stone pondering if maybe he should ask about learning to read some.

When he started down the cavern again he was met with a low growl that echoed about the cave again, and again. His flames puckered and swayed as he fought off the instinct to run. If he didn’t slay whatever this beast was it could attack his unit and it was his job to protect them. He pulled his sword into proper form then burned with the intent to kill.

A language the beast seemed to understand as a flash of a white whip crashed into his vision from the darkness to knock the wind out of him. A growl sounded from behind him and he swung making contact with something hard that cracked like stone. Now face to face with the creature he saw it for what it was.

A large skeleton beast, it’s head sat nearly even with his own, it walked on all fours on wicked, hooked, claws, which matched its terrifying canine teeth that were dangerously close to his face. His sword had placed a crack under its socket and he was prepared to make the other match. He swung and the beast leapt back curling away from him while nashing its terrible teeth. With every step forward the beast stepped back which gave Grillby an idea.

He lunged and the beast leapt back snapping towards his sword, but Grillby cut down snapping off one of its’ long fangs. It yiped a terribly wretched pathetic sound that had Grillby’s guts swirling with a sympathy he should not give such a creature. This was his first fight against something other than a human and it did look enough like a monster for his intention to sway.

Finally, he managed to press the creature out towards the cliffside. One last lunge and the creature would tumble from the cliff. With any luck that would be all that it took to finish it. He lead hard and fast with his sword but the creature ducked under it. Wicked fangs cut into his sword arm before Grillby recognized his defenses were broken and shortly after he felt the subtle shift as the beast locked its jaws over him.

His sword clattered onto the ground as it pressed down harder. Grillby… Hadn’t ever been bit before. Typically beasts had enough self preservation to avoid him entirely and no human had ever tried such a feat. For a long while he stood there stunned until a crunch in his core encouraged him to burn hotter. He conjured a bright yellow flame in his spare hand then slammed it into the creature's muzzle. It didn’t let go. The flame only left simple scorch marks down its snout.

A silver slitted eyelight burned directly into him and he didn’t know what else to do. His sword was on the ground too far to reach, his arm was pinned, and his fire magic he was so proud of did little against bone. The creature shook its head and knocked him from his feet out from under him. He kicked, squirmed, tried desperately to pry his arm free, before he was pulled off the edge of the ledge.

For a terrifying moment he hung in the air supported merely by the strength of this creature’s grip on his arm. Deep in its sockets the silver eyelights bore nothing but hate for him and he realized in that moment he wasn’t surviving the fall. Hopefully someone would find his hearthstone and revive him, or maybe the sweltering heat would be enough to make a spark on it and his next self could avoid this stupid war. 

The creature's eyelights widened in panic as it stared down into Grillby’s own panicked flecks. Weightlessness overcame him, his soul panicked ready for the return of its magic, but… he hit the stones sooner than anticipated, much sooner. A stinging pain filled his sword arm as air met the wound but he was fine, he was safe.

The creature glared at him waiting for him to make his move. It… saved him. It had enough thought to spare him. Grillby looked toward the cave and it growled darkly. The beast had chosen mercy which meant… it was smart enough to know what it was doing. That attack that allowed it to latch onto his arm was calculated.

His orange molten blood began to leak from the wound and cool against his arm, shoot, he was going to need that looked at before he became a crusty mess. “Okay,” Grillby nodded in affirmation to himself, he curled his injured arm against his stomach and held his good arm up in surrender. “Please, if you let me collect my sword I will never bother you again.”

It stared at him with some unspoken understanding before it flicked the sword in his direction, still glaring at him ready to attack the second that blade turned back to it. The blade would not though, he slipped it into its holder and rose to his feet one hand still raised in surrender. “Are you a monster?” If it understood him then surely it must be, it wasn’t a human, and it did not respond like even the trained dogs he had met.

A low, menacing, growl vibrated in its ribs but it was cut short by a small child-like cry from deep inside the cave. The creature tilted its head as it weighed its options before it left him to tend to the cry.

Grillby swallowed as his soul finally began to slow its pulse. He was alive! The revelation sent his head spinning and he leaned against the boulders beside him.

He turned his wounded arm up towards himself as the sound of cries disappeared. The blood was cooling into a deep amber that would eventually grow black and flaky as it latched onto his outer flames. If he waited for that it was going to hurt worse peeling those off then the actual bite. He could see almost every tooth that had sunk into him but more concerning was that he could see his core..

Experimentally he tilted his arm watching with disgust as his orange blood dripped like rain to the ground. Probably best to keep it still. Although, there was something aside from orange in the drops. He crouched down to get a closer look at the drops that fell and the swirling silver making itself a bit too at home against his usual color. Was that from his Core being penetrated? 

That settled it. He needed to visit with Gerson, no one knew more about what he was than Gerson did, and that included himself. He looked over the cliff side, then to his arm, and sighed, it was going to be a long ways down.

* * *

He slunk back into the cave slowly, waiting briefly for the sound of a drawing sword before he trot to the back of the cave. His little brother was crying behind a boulder trying to stay hidden despite his wails.  _ Papyrus, shhh, shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. _ At least he hoped it was, he had no idea how that soldier was going to get down but he was fairly confident it wasn’t going to attack them again. He poked his head around the boulder to see Papyrus sitting with his knees curled up to his ribs and his hands balled up into fists near his tiny sockets. 

Papyrus studied him for a moment, his sad expression growing concerned. “Bruddah hurt?” He stood up on his tiptoes to tap with clawed hands along his eldest brother’s muzzle.

_ I’m okay _ . Mostly. Why had it been so insistent on attacking his face? Soldiers usually aimed for his gangly legs or thin ribs, they avoided his fangs and for good reason. His socket ached with the pulsing pain of cracked bones he was growing far too familiar with, his muzzle burned, unsurprisingly enough, but neither compared to the pain of the snapped tooth throbbing so intensely it felt like his whole skull had been struck by lightning. Papyrus didn’t need to know that though.

“You’re leaking.” He nearly flinched at the sudden sound of Sans’s voice, that boy was far too good at appearing out of nowhere. 

_ What? _ Sans pointed up to his teeth and he rubbed them against his paw. He’d been expecting some dust from the broken fang but instead he was met with something wet. Blood? Could teeth bleed? When he looked at his paw a thin silver liquid dripped down it. It was coming from his broken tooth… but what was it?  _ I’m sure it’s nothing _ , he stated flatly.

“Do we have to leave again?” Sans asked his little fangs tucked into a frown.

“Tired!” Papyrus moaned.

Gaster sat on his haunches and both of the boys sighed their tails twitching in aggravation. Sans went so far as to fold his arms in distaste but Papyrus just slouched his shoulders. “We just got here,” Sans demanded, “you said we wouldn’t leave again until the moon!”

_ Sans, that was a soldier, it’s only a matter of time before he goes to get friends and comes back. _

“I’m tired brother,” somehow he managed to pout deeper until his big brother nudged him gently with his snout.

“Hurt!” Papyrus added pointing up to the crack in his skull.

_ It doesn’t even hurt, _ he assured the youngest,  _ and come the moon it will all be gone. _

“You promised we could stay until the moon!” Sans reiterated. 

_ Sans… _

“You promised!” He whimpered.

“Tired!” Papyrus added.

What was the right thing to do here? He had promised them after the last three days of running that they could finally sleep, and rest, there were boars in this canyon to eat, a river a ways out, it seemed like a good place. Then the humans came, and of course the monsters after that, all in the span of sunrise to high sun. He shouldn’t have tried to push them from the cave, he wasn’t thinking when he fired that blast, he was just… so tired and wanted peace so strongly. But no. Of course some brave soldier aiming for some sort of an award scaled the towering cliffs to kill a creature capable of such a feat.

He was scared. He was scared, and he was tired, and he just wanted peace, and his brothers’ safety.  _ It… will take a while for them to get down the canyon with its’ arm like that,  _ he nodded his head,  _ and some time to find the troops and collect a group to come back. _

“So?” Sans eyed him questioningly.

_ We could leave tonight. _

“No!” Sans barked and he had no choice but to sigh.

_ Go back to sleep, I’ll wake you when it’s time to go. _

“I don’t wanna go! I wanna stay! I wanna stay!” Sans threw himself to the ground like the four year old he was and started crying. He bit down on his throbbing teeth trying to stay firm, he was doing what was best, really. This was the safest decision for all of them. Papyrus looked between the two and began to sniffle before sobbing himself without any knowledge as to why, it just seemed like the thing to do. The poor thing was only two and being asked to do far too much, he couldn’t be upset with him.

The pair deserved a warm home in a nice wood cottage surrounded by trees and familiar faces not… Any of this. They were kids, they deserved to play and be impetuous and read stories and be coddled like he got to be… Heck he couldn’t even shift out of this form to give them a proper hug. All he could do was keep them safe… And he was trying! He really was…

_ Brothers please, _ he nudged Papyrus gently with the tip of his nose which seemed to be enough to placate him for the time being. Sans however bopped him hard on the nose when he tried and he recoiled swiftly from it. Normally Sans didn’t have enough force to do much more than annoy him but his whole face was aching.

With his head bowed he walked to the furthest point of the cave where the rocks formed a little hole in the wall just big enough for his brothers in their waxing forms but not for their full forms. He reached his paw inside and felt the quilted blanket they took from home. He didn’t dare rip it, they had so little left of home, and eventually… this would be all they had left of it. 

His brothers were so young he knew there would be a day they didn’t remember ever having had a home to begin with. It would all fade like a distant dream replaced with this living nightmare. For now though, it still smelled like home, smelled safe, he tossed the blanket on top of the squirming toddler and Papyrus pounced on top of the blanket. Slowly Sans’s cries grew into softer, more sincere, ones until he grew silent. After a little bit of heavy breathing he crawled out from under the blanket.

_ Sleep now you two.  _ He pulled the blanket with them on it back to the den but it was up to Sans to pull it back onto its spot.

“Sleep too?” Papyrus asked with a bright smile.

_ I have to keep watch in case the soldier comes back early. _

“I’ll watch!” Papyrus crawled out of the din, or tried to before Sans pulled his tail to anchor him back in place.

_ I would rather you sleep brother.  _ He rested his chin on his paws to see the pair staring back at him,  _ Besides. You know Sans can’t sleep if he doesn’t know where you are. _ Papyrus looked at Sans who was already fast asleep then up to his oldest brother.  _ Sleep well little one. _

“Love you bruddah.”

_ Love you too,  _ he nudged his nose into the den just far enough to get a little pat before he trod back to the cave’s entrance. Three days, they ran for three days, and the only respite they could get was a measly six hours? And not even that! He’d barely gotten any sleep before he heard the human army.

There had to be somewhere out there for them. Somewhere far away from monsters, humans, where the grass was so soft it didn’t even stick between his mandibles, where trees hid them from sight, hunting was plentiful and-- maybe others like them could find them. Tell them how brave they were for coming so far on their own but it was okay now, they didn’t have to do it anymore. Then his brothers could know what it was like to be cared for, and take classes, and learn how to really hunt!

His tail wagged and he chuckled, they would find it, they had to! Next moon for sure! Next moon… 

Next moon.

How many times had he said that now? His claws scratched against the stone leaving gouges as he snarled, they just had each other and he was practically an adult. It was his job to take care of him and so he would. He had made that promise after all, he was going to keep them safe no matter what.


	2. Conflicting Interests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby meets back up with his camp and the skele-family makes plans for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean its almost been a month since chapter one @.@ I'm glad you guys were curious to learn more! I hope you enjoy as it continues!

By the time he got back to the monster camp he was completely exhausted. The whole way there he had dripped molten droplets from his arm that marked his long and arduous journey back to camp. Although, if there was something to be grateful for in the whole situation it was that if it was still bleeding it was harder for the blackened crust to appear over his flames and extinguish them. Even the few small pieces that had formed were itchy and irritating him greatly. 

In fact walking was irritating him too. Everything was just-- a little annoying but that was probably because he was so tired. He looked to the sun nearly halfway through its descent where it would disappear under the earth. It was strange for him to be tired if the sun was out but it was also strange to fight with a skeleton dog on a cliff top.

Monsters cheered for him as he walked into the heart of camp. Everything was still in the middle of being set up it just seemed a strange place to do it. As he passed by the soldiers some cheered for him, to which he didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t surprised to hear he’d been reported as missing but he was surprised to hear both sides had called a truce to avoid both units fizzling out. Humans could be reasoned with, who knew? And all it took was a giant skeletal creature with a very strange attack confusing everyone. simple.

He shyly asked one of the higher officers where he was supposed to set up the tent and did his best not to sigh at the command. They eyed him a bit sternly so he stuck his chest out to give a proper thank you. Pleasantries were tiring. He walked away from the health tent, away from the campfire and still-being-assembled food tent, through a mess of half pitched temporary tents, down a small ledge to what was going to be his home for the night.

His eyes were just barely able to peak over the ledge to see the rest of the camp running about. With a solemn sigh he unloaded his inventory and attempted to pitch his tent but… it wasn’t working! He’d done this dozens of times before! Why wouldn’t the stupid stick-- _ snap _ ! He tossed it to the ground and rubbed his face, okay, he just needed to eat something. The scent of burning fabric jerked his hands away from his face to see small burn holes in his tent.

Blood. Great, he somehow forgot he was still leaking! His flames flickered in hot angry oranges, no, no, he wasn’t supposed to get angry. He sat down swiftly focusing on his breathing, calm, calm, flames had to stay calm, an angry flame was a dangerous flame and he never got angry. Never. Not on the battle field not at his stupid blood poking holes in his tent, he was a good flame.

Once his usual patchy oranges returned to him he decided to visit Gerson first, then find something to eat, and finally pitch this stupid tent. Luckily he knew where Gerson was right off.

The Turtoise monster was rumored to be as old as the Kingdom itself, a rumor that he played for laughs as soldiers tried to guess his age. He was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield with a mighty hammer that he swung around effortlessly despite its cumbersome weight. Gerson was a strategist, a warrior, a captain, and a hero no one could topple, but that was on the battlefield.

Outside of battle his gruff hardened exterior protected a truly warm soul. He was considerate of all monsters and was the first to the medical tent after every battle, not because he was wounded but to help the doctors. He couldn’t do much but he aided in wrapping up simple wounds and deciding which patients needed the most attention. The doctors praised his good eye for detail and the soldiers were happy to know they were in his hands.

Grillby stood awkwardly by Gerson as he wrapped a bandage around two pieces of wood that were placed on either side of the dog monster’s leg. “Just take it easy a few days, if ya need a cane let me know, might have somethin’ for ya.”

“Thank you Gerson,” the dog replied, as he got off of the infamous hammer he was sitting on to stand gingerly on his good leg. His eyes widened when he saw Grillby before he nodded his head respectfully. A clumsy moment of silence later and he waddled off allowing Grillby to take his seat.

“Well I’ll be,” Gerson whistled, “I told ‘em you didn’t run.”

Grillby’s flames pulled close to his core, “I would never! I know I belong to the military!”

Gerson eyed him curiously, “I know boy. I told ‘em good ol’ Patches wouldn’t ever run!” Grillby’s core warmed at the nickname. He wasn't ever sure why the title had such an affect on him but he enjoyed it. “You came back so everything is gonna be hunky-dory. Got it?”

“R-right,” he bowed his head in shame. Why was he so on edge today?

“Let me get a look at that arm,” Gerson held his hands out and Grillby set his arm atop it like a good flame. He shook his head, “Ain’t never seen a human with chompers like that.” He grabbed a thick cloth from a bucket beside him and dabbed it with an oil before taking it over the wound. The oil stung enough for Grillby to involuntarily hook his fingers like claws. “Relax boy, you’re all wound up like a spring.”

“Sorry.”

Gerson shook his head dabbing away the fresher blood before turning to the dried black patches. He grabbed a pair of charred tongs similar to what a blacksmith may use from his inventory, “Need ya to stay right at this temp alright? No flarin up on me.”

“Right.”

He used the tongs like tweezers pinching up and taring free the black patches from his outer flames. It felt like rain, every time he pinched another piece, he felt that drop of pain as his flames fought to understand where and how they were supposed to lay. ““What did this to ya, cause I know it wasn’t a human.”

“I went to investigate those white lights,” Grillby replied matter of factly. Although now that he thought about it the creature he fought never once fired that attack at him. Had he been mistaken and just invaded the poor things den for no reason? “I encountered some creature, beast, skeleton thing? I really don’t know how to describe it.”

“So what? You abandoned your post to go fight a dragon? Ya lookin’ for a title boy cause I’m leanin’ towards ‘Grillby the Deserter’! Ya can’t just go runnin’ off like that.”

“I was afraid it was going to hurt us!” He winced as the last of the charcoal like scabs was removed.

Gerson twisted Grillby’s arm upwards to get a better look at it, “Sucker bit right down to your core didn’t it?”

“It was exposed earlier but it’s not now.” Thank goodness too that climb down the cliff had been an exercise of patience as every gust of wind struck his core like hail. 

“Ain’t fair, somethin’ as reckless as you havin’ a heal factor like this.” He shook his head then dripped some of the oil on a cloth, before something caught his attention. With narrowed brows he grabbed a small piece of metal and poked it against the wound. Grillby ripped his arm away impulsively but it seemed Gerson got what he wanted. “What’s this boy?”

Grillby shielded his arm childishly from Gerson but leaned in to look at the silver swirling liquid accompanying his blood. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “I thought maybe it was because my core broke but I wasn’t sure.”

“Hm.” He stated simply while he wrapped the wound in utter silence and tugged it just a bit too sharp at the end making Grillby spark haughtily. His yellow eyes burned hot into Grillby’s flecks and he calmed immediately. “Well good news is it ain’t gonna fall off!”

“Was there a chance of that?” Grillby sputtered and Gerson laughed his booming laugh.

“Ah, yer too good kid,” he shook his head. “Here take this flask, it’s got a special kinda oil in it. Don’t go sharin’ it with no one it won’t do them any good. Just sprinkle a bit of that on the wraps when ya change ‘em. Emphasis on a bit boy it’s expensive and liquid, no matter the type, ain’t gonna agree with ya in large amounts.”

“Right,” he stood up quickly, eager to get heading to the mess tent. The line was already so long he could see it from here.

“Oh, and keep your eye out for anything unusual,” he started picking up the various things he had at his feet.

“Like what?”

“You’ll know.” He turned his head up towards the sky, “Now go eat somethin’ boy or yer gonna be achin’ tomorrow.”

“Right.”

With Gerson’s grace he headed to the mess tent to join the giant line. It was so long and he was so hungry. Usually he lived off of the rations they gave him, a few dried pieces of meat, some oats, and some dried bread but tonight he really wanted something more to eat. He didn’t think he was asking too much, they weren’t in a forest where he could eat at some branches and sticks until at least his magic was satisfied. The nice monster put a large fish on his plate, a bit of bread, and a small bowl of something like soup? He wasn’t sure since he never really touched liquid foods but he was excited by the fish! Fresh meat! He couldn’t remember the last time he got to eat any that wasn’t dried already!

Eating had never sounded more appealing. He wasn’t quite paying attention to where he was going, more focused on the plate in his hand, until he realized he’d followed the herd of soldiers to the fire pit. Oh. He was really close to everyone. Several monsters were looking at him curiously and he bowed his head apologetically before walking towards the back of the group. He sat on a stone outside of the fire’s warmth and smiled down to his plate.

He pinched at the fish flank trying not to cook it too much further before he bit into it. Ah, the flavor was lacking, needed some more seasoning but he wasn’t going to complain. As he reached for the bread his plate tumbled from his lap which spilled the strange soup over his legs. It hissed as it seeped through his thin hand me down pants and he swiped fiercely at them trying to get as much liquid from them as he could.

“Wow what a waste of food,” a monster with a narrow muzzle and long fuzzy tail chidded. Grillby remained silent as he tried to clean his pants. His fingers began to cramp as he got all that he could off. It was time for bed. He was done with today. The sun was setting and he had every intention of collapsing the second he laid on his mat. “Wasting good monster food on an elemental. Can you believe they’d even allow that?”

Stay calm. You’rer just a dumb flame, they are blowing off steam, it wasn’t directed at him. He bent down to pick up the discarded foods since he had no trouble eating off of the ground but his hand was crushed by a boot. The fish turned to mush below his grip which stung his hand before a burning smell filled the air. “Whoops, oh well, you can eat through your hands can’t you? I mean, it all ends up ash eventually right?”

He just wanted to eat. He was sitting away from everyone, the monster that gave him the food was fine with it, why couldn’t he? Why was he so different from everyone else? Why was he born a lesser monster? He looked up at the monster with distaste burning in his eyes as they flicked some of their own soup at him. Grillby winced as he tried again to pry his hand out from under their boot while his face burned with the mushroom tasting soup. 

What did he do wrong? He knew in his head he was supposed to just take this the academy had certainly put him through worse but his soul was angry and for once his head couldn’t tame it.

Without a thought he lashed out biting at the monster's leg trying to burn hot enough to make up for his lack of teeth. It seemed to startle them enough to step back but as Grillby wiped the soup from his face something hard connected with his gut. He buckled over grabbing his stomach as the air was knocked from him, “How dare you! I’ll have you know I am the third son of the Draded family! You dare attack me?”

“I don’t give a shit who you are!” Grillby growled surprised by the harshness of his own voice. “You can’t treat monsters like this!”

“Who told you that you were a monster?” His cocky golden raptor like eyes rubbed Grillby just the wrong way. He burned as hot as he could and slammed his open palm against the monster’s exposed chest. The fur caught flame and he smelt flesh as icy talons slashed into his face. He burned wicked and wild but just before he could roar something hard smacked him and his foe to the ground.

Immediately he clawed for the ground ready to spring back into the fight before realization hit him like a broadsword: he attacked someone. He attacked someone? He attacked another monster. Dread began clawing at his soul, they were going to extinguish him, send him back to training, or crush his hearthstone and be done with him altogether. Why did he do that? He knew what was going to happen! He buried his face as soot began to waft from him, he didn’t want to start over, he didn’t want to go back to the academy. His whole body began to tremble going so numb he didn’t even notice being picked up from the ground.

Bad, he was bad. They didn’t keep bad flames. Bad flames were suffocated or-- “Grillby I need ya to listen to me boy.”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “So sorry I--”

“Don’t say another word,” Gerson barked before his voice fell to the background. He couldn’t feel anything, he couldn’t even tell if he was standing or being held, the angry magic he felt loud and clear but he didn’t know where it was coming from. The last heat of the day left the sky and he shivered as he hit the ground firmly.

“Can’t even put a tent together, what’s the matter with ya?” Gerson’s voice grumbled and Grillby realized he was back at his tent. How did he get here? Scratchy hands grabbed each side of his face, “Look at me boy.”

His vision was blurry and he recognized a light headedness as he tried to focus on those familiar yellow eyes. “I don’t know what happened,” he mumbled.

“Well ya gone and stuck yer head in the mud that’s for sure.” Had he? He figured that would hurt a lot more than he did right now. Gerson dropped his shoulders, “Not literally boy! Swear yer head is full uh rocks sometimes.”

Gerson moved his hands to Grillby’s shoulders and made him sit as he undid the bandages. As Grillby had expected the wound had mostly healed now but the silver flames that leapt from it were rather pretty though, unexpected. Gerson swore before wrapping it back up. He studied Grillby for a moment before he dropped his head, some thought in his head was just a bit too heavy to keep up. “I told them you got wounded in the fight with an ice trident, that the cold left ya dazed and out of sorts. Explained it as the opposite of a fever.”

“That’s not what happened,” Grillby tilted his head to the side.

Gerson shook his head, “No boy I lied. Do you know what they’d have done to ya for attackin’ a noble?”

“I...yeah. I do.” Bad flame. He was a bad flame, he buried his face in his hands. Who was going to punish him? The head commander… or would they have Gerson do it? His soul quivered with a want to live but the knowledge that his life was not his own. He was a bad flame and bad flames weren’t kept in camps.

He sighed, “Nothin’ to be done now. Hand me that flask I gave ya.” Grillby had to think for a moment before he remembered what Gerson was talking about. Stars, his head felt like it was stuffed with the fluff they put in cloth armor. He handed Gerson the flask and he pulled a cloth from his own inventory that he soaked lightly before cupping it gently to the side of Grillby’s face.

The oil burned but he didn’t dare move from it, he was ready to follow orders and prove himself however he could. “So...what is wrong with me?” Grillby asked softly, “The trident thing was a lie but I don’t feel like myself and you said I’d know if there was anything unusual and this… this counts doesn’t it?”

Gerson pat his shoulder as close to affectionately as he could muster, “Let's wait and see how ya feel tomorrow before we go jumpin’ ta conclusions alright?” Grillby nodded his head, he was used to not knowing things. “I told ‘em tomorrow you were gonna be quarantined to yer tent for your own health. I’ll be keepin’ a close eye on ya to make sure everything stays nice and calm alright?”

“Okay.”

“Don’t look so down boy, promise, I know yer a good boy. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Okay.”

Gerson shook his head, “What’d I ever do to get tangled up in this mess?” He pulled a plate from his inventory full of everything but the soup, “I ain’t that hungry tonight anyways.” 

Grillby glew bright as he took the bread in hand. He took a large bite before he smirked at Gerson. “Thank you, I’m not sure why you’re so nice to me,” he pinched a piece of fish in his fingers and held it out to Gerson.

“Ya got a good soul boy,” Gerson took the fish and popped them into his mouth and swallowed it whole, “I’m just treatin’ ya how you deserve.” No one else treated him like this but Grillby liked to think that just made moments like this all the more special.

* * *

_ Alright brothers, rise and shine, _ he scratched his claws against the cave floor and Sans was the first to stir.

“Iffy it’s dark out, we sleep when it’s dark out,” Sans mumbled curling up tighter.

_ You slept all day it’s time to go _ , he stated firmly which only received an annoyed flick of the tail from Sans.

“Did you sleep?” Sans asked, poking his head out of the den.

_ No but-- _

“Then we are staying,” he curled back up on the blanket. 

He sighed biting gently at the end of Sans’s tail and pulling him out with a cacophony of complaints. Sans shifted into his full form placing all four paws firmly on the ground, he growled as deep as he could muster but even like this he barely came up to his older brother's elbows. He batted at Sans with his paw and the poor kid toppled over.  _ Papyrus, come on, _ he lowered himself to the den’s entrance to see Papyrus curled up in the back staring with his tiny sockets back at him.

“Don’t wanna,” he whimpered.

_ We can go get something to eat, _ he urged as Sans pounced haughtily at his tail.

“No!”

_ Please Papyrus? What about a drink of water? We could head back towards the river-- _

“No!” he barked with tears in his sockets.

_ Shhh, shhh, don’t cry pup, it’s going to be okay.  _ His words didn’t seem to sway the young pup who proceeded to cry. Sans bit into his tail and he flicked it hard to try to shake him off.  _ Sans, please, you’re not helping. _

_ I don’t wanna help, I wanna stay! _

Papyrus’s cries grew louder and he tried to shush him, they couldn’t make so much noise! What if someone heard them?  _ Boys please.  _ Papyrus wailed with the full power of a caps locked infant and Sans started to growl. He tilted his head back trying to stay calm in spite of the pain rolling in his skull.

His head was pounding now both from the injuries he’d sustained and lack of sleep. Monsters and humans didn’t usually travel much at night but they needed distance by morning. He stood up on uncertain paws and walked with his head down towards the entrance of the cave. Honestly, he didn’t want to move again either. He was so tired of uprooting them and every time was becoming more and more of a fight. Somewhere out there was the perfect place and then they’d never have to move again but this wasn’t it.

He tilted his muzzle to the sky and howled, low, quiet, just enough to make his chest rumble with comfort as he told the air his frustrations. Unfortunately it was still loud enough for two little howls to join in with their own frustrations. He sighed, cutting himself off short to stop them all from making so much noise. The full moon was tomorrow, with any luck it would be their last big move. A day with no soldiers storming into their dens, with plenty of food, and water, his tail wagged slowly, a piece of the world meant just for them!

Sans trotted up to him and rested against his side,  _ Brother please? We’re tired. _

He sighed,  _ What if I carry you two tonight? _

Sans leered at him suspiciously,  _ I thought you said we were too big to carry. _

_ If you are in your waxing forms and cling to my back I should be able to manage. You won’t get to sleep but you won’t have to run. _

_ Aren’t you tired? _

_ I’m your big strong brother! I can do anything!  _ He pounced playfully to which Sans wagged his tail and yipped a short excited bark. They were too big to carry but if it meant they could get away from the armies then he’d just deal with it.  _ You’ll be in charge of keeping Papyrus up there though. _

_ I’ll do it!  _ Sans ran an excited circle before dashing back into the cave.

_ Make sure to put everything in your inventory Sans! _

_ I will! _

They were good boys… He knew he was asking a lot of them so the least he could do was carry them when they were too tired to walk. They’d passed through a forest on their way here maybe if they could find a thick enough part of it they could stay there until the moon. If he hurried they could make a den before sunrise and then all three of them could sleep until nightfall… no. They needed to eat. If he made a den for them they could sleep and he could hunt until high sun for them. Then the three of them could sleep until the moon where they would have to run again.

He winced as his head pulsed with a sudden burst of pressure, everything would be better tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grillby... has never done anything 'bad' since he was certified ready for battle but it seems he's hitting a rebellious streak! or maybe something else is happening.
> 
> Meanwhile the skele-fam is all getting tired. Poor Iffy is doing his best but he's just as tired as they are!


	3. A Change of Pace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The skeleton family continue their journey to find somewhere safe and Grillby peels some vegetables.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have decided on the absolute most random update schedule for this! Until A Voyage out to Sea ends I will update this story at least once a month and only on days that end with four... because it keeps working that way so why not?
> 
> I'm glad you guys seem to be enjoying this story! I've been wanting to write some GasterBlaster stuff since before I even started posting to this account!

With half open sockets he gazed over the canyon anticipating a long night ahead.  _ Brothers? Have you finished gathering everything?  _ They didn’t own much but it was important the young ones learned to pick up for themselves. Not to mention it was much harder for him to slip things in his inventory like this. He bowed his head and tried to imagine himself growing smaller, standing on his hind legs, grabbing things with his fingers, but no amount of imagination triggered the change. Though, he didn’t need it tonight. Tonight he needed to be in his Full form or he risked his brothers’ safety.

“Yes,” Sans yawned as he approached rubbing his clawed hand against his socket.

_ Yes, _ Papyrus added as he bound after his brother on all fours.

_ Good job,  _ he smiled as best as he could.  _ Papyrus you’re going to crawl up between my shoulderblades and Sans is going to hold you there okay?  _ This was so needlessly dangerous but looking into their tired sockets he couldn’t go back on his word now. Papyrus started to scramble up his back on all fours but he gently shook the child off receiving worried claws into his back.

_ Waxing form Papyrus,  _ he winced. The child blinked up to him seemingly confused,  _ You need hands. _

“Like me bro,” Sans smiled as Papyrus seemed to snap the pieces into place and shifted forms. Now he sat with his hands on the ground and his legs splayed out in front of him, his tail wagging proudly.

_ Very good, _ he smirked and nudged him with the tip of his nose.  _ Get up now. _

He ended up needing to lay down for Papyrus to get on his back. The little one preferred his Full form which meant he wasn’t as coordinated on two legs. Once Sans got into position Gaster lifted himself shakily from the ground. The pair didn’t weigh that much but neither did he. Cautiously he lifted his paws one at a time to check that he was stable before he started off in a trot across the thin ledge that wrapped around the pillar their cave was on.

“Faster Iffy!” Papyrus shouted with an excited click of his heels against his brother’s ribs. As anticipated the weight was a bit much, it made his paws smack heavily against the stone, and their squirming had his balance a little lacking. Which was fine at this even gallop he was going but around corners and landing jumps were cumbersome at best perilous at worse. To the disappointed sigh of his brothers he slowed down as the path they were on narrowed.

The height made him dizzy as he looked to the dark caverns below. One slip and that would be the end. He crouched lower nearly scraping his sternum against the ground as he tried desperately to assure the darkness couldn’t consume them. His brothers recognized this as a stalking pose and grew silent huddling closer to him to see what creature their big brother had found.

Poor things were probably hungry. Deer sounded good, actually deer sounded really good, and if he could figure out how to get back to his Waxing form to cook it properly they could make it last for quite a while. The worst part about this form was how much energy it consumed. He was almost always hungry but there wasn’t anything he could do to satiate it. Birds were easy enough to find but where they were the perfect size for the boys they didn’t do him any good.

His magic churned with memories of perfectly seasoned grilled meat and he was just about tempted to lay down to stew on it for a while before an excited yelp caught his attention. He crooned his head up to see where Sans was pointing. Deceptively close were the treetops of the forest they had passed through to come here. He knew this was the most treacherous part of the canyon but seeing them gave him hope. With a groan he rocked back onto his feet, “Fast!” Papyrus called eagerly.

_ Papyrus-- _

“Fast!” Sans agreed. The two began to chant and he was left with two options: indulge them or don’t. He looked at the moon so close to full it looked as if it might burst, tomorrow everything would be better, he just had to get through one more day. Then they could sleep, and eat, and maybe play a little? His tail smacked against the stone in his excitement. Yeah, he pounced down, he could do it! If they got there early maybe he could sleep before he had to hunt? Sleep. Sweet, sweet sleep, he was ready for it!

He lunged forward delighted by the excited squeals from his brothers. The path widened out here allowing him to get more and more traction. When they passed through the first time they took a bridge a little lower down but the backtracking of the path had taken so long! If he was stuck in this big form he should use it! He leapt over the large gap between stones and clawed his way to the top of the plateau. That’s right! He was their big strong brother! He could do anything!

His shoulders shifted as he took back to running across the top of the canyon. The rocks up here were thin and loose; they jittered as he passed by. Another leap up ahead, it was onto a lower platform though so he didn’t need to worry about making it, just had to land. As he hooked his claws against the edge of the platform the rocks came loose, suddenly his front paws were in the air, but he pressed off with his hind legs as hard as he could. The boys shouted with delight, unaware of the panic in their brother's soul. 

With a  _ crack _ his sternum smacked against the corner of the stone platform and his brothers screeched as the three slipped dangerously towards the darkness. He hooked his front paws against stone but he could feel himself sinking gradually towards his tail. When he tried to move his hind legs to find something to secure them against his ribs tightened against his sternum until he yiped with pain. Desperately he pressed his chin to the stone to slow their descent as much as he could. 

“Iffy? What’s wrong?” Sans asked his little clawed fingers dancing against his brother’s ribs.

“Go! Go!” Papyrus called patting him encouragingly. 

_ Boys, I need you to listen to me, _ he did his best to keep his voice calm. The flaky stones he freed by his hind claws clattered all the way down the rock face, further, and further, marking their journey with gentle clinks until finally they fell silent. He swallowed hard trying not to imagine such a path for them,  _ Sans I need you to crawl up to my head and get on this platform. _

“But what about you?” Sans asked with a whimper daring a glance down himself.

_ I need you to make sure Papyrus gets to the platform, okay? _

“But what about you?”

_ I can’t pull myself up so I’m going to go down to the path, remember? The one we took coming here. _

Sans seemed to think about that for a while before he inched up towards his neck. “That wasn’t here…”

_ It was, it was,  _ he sunk his claws in further as he began to slip back. He’d promised he’d take care of them, and now look at what happened. A bit of recklessness and he’d put all of them in trouble. If he could just give them the chance to move on-- but they were so young! What was going to happen to them? They didn’t stand a chance against humans and monsters. He bit down,  _ I can’t climb down with you two on my back.  _ He squirmed to pull himself up just a little bit more but a creaking in his ribs stopped him.

“It was by the silly tree--”

“Silly,” Papyrus clicked his teeth together.

_ Sans. I need you to be brave okay? Help your brother get to the platform.  _ Sans wrapped his hands around his older brother’s shoulder blades as he began to sniffle.  _ Hey, hey, it’s okay little one, you’re going to be okay I just need you to listen okay? _

“I’m scared,” Sans cried holding on tighter.

_ You want to help Papyrus don’t you? _

“Of course but--”

_ Then you have to get up to the platform. _

“Sans?” Papyrus asked as Sans shifted to crawl across his brother’s bones.

G _ ood Sans, that’s a good boy. _ Sans stood as close to the edge as he could bear and held his arms out to Papyrus who crawled reluctantly into them.  _ Good job boys I’m so proud of you!  _ His sockets beaded with tears,  _ Head into the woods and find somewhere nice and covered to hide okay? _

Papyrus squirmed out of Sans’s arms then shifted into his Full form,  _ Iffy come!  _ His tiny paws clacked nervously against the stone as he pounced into a play position.

_ Iffy will come later, _ he rubbed his face against Papyrus’s straining to hold himself together. He wasn’t going to survive this fall. His tail searched for the cliffside but it was just close enough to scratch with his hind claws and nothing more.  _ So you need to listen to Sans okay? _

“No! You’re the big brother!” Sans stomped his foot stubbornly. “I don’t want to be in charge! I just wanna sleep,” he sniffled as a rattle started in his bones. “Come on Iffy get up! Dad’s gonna be mad if you aren’t with us!”

Dad… wasn’t looking for them. His soul squirmed, he wanted so much to believe that they were out there looking for them. That someday he’d feel their embrace again, but it was pointless, he saw what happened to their home.  _ I’ll meet up with you soon, okay? _

“You promise?”

_ Sans.  _ He never made promises he couldn’t keep and he knew full well how this ended, his claws fumbled to sink into the stone and his breath stuttered as he failed to secure his purchase. A grunt escaped him as he tried to hook his elbows against the flat surface.

“You have to promise!” Sans demanded as Papyrus began to howl.

Please, he thought with sealed sockets as his tail bobbed backwards, not like this. Not in front of them.  _ I love you both. Be kind to each other okay?  _ He gave one last futile kick to reposition his front legs only for them to slip over the edge. He didn’t open his eyes, he didn’t want to see their faces as their brother was swallowed by the darkness below. Would they look for him? Find his dust… they were babies. How were they supposed to survive a war torn hellscape?

He hoped… his parents would forgive him for failing.

The wind stopped rushing around him and everything grew painfully still. Was this it? Funny he didn’t even remember the pain of hitting the ground, a grace he supposed. 

A blue light glowed bright enough in front of him to coax his sockets open. Floating above his ribs was an eerie blue light that he recognized as his soul given physical form by the magic around it. He was trapped in the darkness but his eyes were keen enough to tell him he was still in the canyon, so, why wasn’t he falling?

“Come on Iffy!” Sans shouted his voice strained.

This was… Was Sans doing this? He couldn’t see up that far but that didn’t matter. Sans had given him this opportunity and he had to take it. It took a bit of struggling with his legs and tail to make it towards the cliffside but once he did he sunk his claws in and climbed with all the agility of a cat. There was no way he’d have been able to climb this without the aid of the blue light. 

The smile that crossed his fangs when he finally saw San’s small clawed hand stretched over the edge of the cliff almost hurt. The last part was a little tricky since the stone had so much overhang but he managed to squirm up enough to land all four paws on the platform. Papyrus was pressed against Sans’s chest and it was easy to see that was the only thing keeping the teary eyed boy up. 

_ Sans! That was amazing! How in the world did you do that?  _ Soul magic was very common for skeletons but their kind had given up such things in favor of the physical strength skeletons lacked. Regardless, that was a skill for adults not toddlers.

Sans’s fists curled into his sockets as he scrunched his face tight, “Don’t do that Iffy! Don’t!” His ribs stuttered as fat tears tumbled down his face.

_ I won’t, I won’t,  _ he rubbed his face against the side of Sans’s skull,  _ I’m here little one, I’m here. _

“Hurt!” Papyrus pointed to his sternum.

_ Yes, yes, I’m hurt, but I’m okay. The moon will fix it and I’ll be okay.  _ A broken tooth, burn marks, a cut from his eye, and now a crack in his sternum the moon had a lot to do tomorrow. If he allowed himself the time to think about it he might just fall asleep.

Sans clung to his muzzle and he had no choice but to admit defeat.  _ Alright, why don’t you rest here until the sun comes up?  _ This was way more open than he liked but it seemed there was no choice.

Sans clung tighter to him, “You’re not going to leave are you?”

_ No,  _ he hushed him nuzzling playfully at his ribs,  _ I’m right here little one.  _ Sans cried into his muzzle until the little one fell asleep completely exhausted from his efforts.  _ Rest now my little hero _ . He did his best to clumsily reposition the child into a more comfortable sleeping position. A Papyrus curled into the middle child’s side.

_ Papyrus, Waxing form please.  _ The young child whimpered in response,  _ I just don’t want you getting stuck like me.  _ Papyrus sighed and leered up to him,  _ Paps. Please. _ With a grunt he shifted back into his waxing form and curled his tail so he could hold it between his clawed hands. 

_ Thank you,  _ he smiled resting his head on top of his paws and curling as tight as his sore sternum allowed him around the pair.  _ I’m proud of both of you for hanging in as well as you have.  _ He looked to the mountains and trees in the distance,  _ We’ll find a good home soon. Then we won’t have to move ever again. _

“Sleep Iffy,” the pair mumbled in sync. He chuckled and rested his head, he couldn’t afford to sleep, but resting his sockets wouldn’t hurt anything, at least until the little ones fell asleep then he’d see about finding a better place to hide. His sockets seemed to glue themselves together and they didn’t open until the sunrise.

* * *

Grillby didn’t sleep at all last night. His body was full of twitchy spasms as he fought off whatever toxins the venom possessed. He could feel the sun rising higher in the air but he just couldn’t make himself move. Everything felt off, wrong, too cold, too hot, all at the same time. Everytime he thought he was feeling better a new pain would rack his form. If he had it his way he was going to stay in the tent all day, unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Alright kiddo! I gave ya nuff time up and at’em!” Gerson barked entering the tent at full decibel.

“I’m awake!” Grillby groaned as he wrapped his hands over the side of his head.

“Alright that’s step one! Time for step two!” Gerson kicked gently at Grillby’s side but he might as well have swung with all his might. “Come on, ya ain’t gettin’ nothin’ to eat until you get some fresh air.”

“It’s already too late for breakfast,” Grillby sighed.

“Still time for lunch Patches.”

“Yeah cause dinner went so well.”

Gerson pulled back a bit at the comment, “Were you just sarcastic boy?”

Was he sarcastic? Was that what the poison sickness was? “What’s sarcastic?” 

“Wa ha ha,” Gerson tilted his head back as he laughed, “come on kiddo. Bit uh’ sun is going to do ya some good!”

Sun did sound nice but that meant getting up which sounded the opposite of nice. Whether by blessing or curse though Gerson was there to grab him by the back of the collar and jerk him into a sitting position. “Fine! Fine!” He pressed his hands to the floor and stood up clumsily with his arms hanging heavily at his side.

Gerson ushered him out of the tent and for the first time in his life Grillby squinted under the sun’s glow. “I feel like the soldiers look after a night of drinking,” he breathed heavily.

“Might be a fair comparison,” Gerson smirked. “All the Commanders been in an’ out of meetings all mornin’ or I would have bugged ya sooner. Been sendin’ scouts out all mornin’. It’s a proper mess.”

If it was just the soldiers they could climb out through the cave-in but they had carts to take care of too. “What about down along the riverway? It has to lead somewhere.”

“It ain’t quite wide enough for the carts,” Gerson hummed as they walked towards the main camp. “It’s lookin’ like we might need to clear the cave in and go the long way around.”

“If that’s the case we should start now right?” Maybe moving stones would be a good exercise, certainly mindless enough to deal with on a day like this.

“You’d think but--”

“No one can agree because it could be dangerous,” Grillby filled in and Gerson smiled almost proudly up to him.

“You got it Patches.” Gerson led him into the mess tent, it was still a little early for lunch so no one but the camp's resident card players and gossipers were present. “Ya know, I wasn’t sure about takin’ on one of you Eternals. And a few months back it seemed like more of a chore then it was worth. But I’m glad they made me take ya on Patches ya got a good mind and a good soul.”

Grillby paused midstep to watch Gerson continue to the back where the cooks were. He was supposed to be mindless but, Gerson was right, he did think a lot more than he should. When he first met Gerson fresh out of the academy he was a lot better at listening then he was now. He filled his days doing whatever task might benefit Gerson or the camp: shining boots, polishing swords, lighting torches, making campfires, warming Gerson’s bed, and fighting where and when asked. Gerson had kicked him out of his tent within the first week saying if he wanted a serf he would have bought one.

He still wasn’t sure what that had meant but it resulted in him pitching a tent on the other side of camp. It drove him crazy at first: he was supposed to serve his commander, and his commander was Gerson, and Gerson was on the other side of the camp but he was here, but Gerson didn’t want him to be there. Overtime though he learned to appreciate the space to himself enough to grow curious over what it would be like to spend time with others.

There was a longing in his soul he knew he wasn’t supposed to possess but it didn’t stop him from wanting to reach out to others, to find someone like himself. “Kid you comin’ or not?”

“Y-yes!” His head still felt so fuzzy, it was pretty easy to space out and lose himself. He rolled his stiff shoulders as he walked to the back of the tent where lunch preparations were well under way. A small brown object was tossed his way and he ducked under it before looking to Gerson with concern.

“You were supposed to catch it boy!” Gerson barked, “Get to peelin’ veggies Patches, this is the last day they’ll do us any good and we gotta lighten the carts anyways!” 

Oh, right, of course! He picked up the brown object that had been tossed his way now bruised and smashed against the stone floor. There wasn’t much point in peeling this one it would just squish if he tried. He looked around the kitchen and found the drum of cooking oil. Carefully he dipped the potato in it before smashing the potato between his hands, it hissed and squirmed in protest until he pulled away with a well fried potato pancake. “Where are the knives?” Grillby asked as he passed the fried potato to one of the cooks. 

“Right there,” the flecked chicken responded as she gestured to the corner. She bawked excitedly when she saw what Grillby had made, “If cooking oil wasn’t in such high demand we’d have you make the whole camp these little delights!” She pecked at it happily and Grillby smiled shyly. He wasn’t really good at cooking but he liked to help out as much as he could.

“Thank you.” Grillby moved to the corner she had pointed to and pulled up a barrel to sit on only for a jolt of pain to force him to his knees. He wrapped his fingers around the barrel’s rim and squeezed until they hurt in an effort to make the pain go away.

“Those veggies won’t peel themselves!” Gerson hummed from the other side of the tent.

“If he’s sick maybe he shouldn’t--” The chicken started but Gerson cut her off.

“Nah, boy ain’t sick he just needs to focus on somethin’. Up and attem’ Patches come on.”

“Yes commander,” he groaned as he hoisted himself to his feet. His flames gave a harsh shiver while he caught his breath before he finally turned to peel the vegetables. They were all far too soft and he ended up wasting more than he liked with clumsy cuts over the soft flesh.

He crushed a beet in his grip as a spasm consumed his forearm. What was this venom? Anytime he’d been forced to endure some poison or another it usually settled in his stomach or chest until he could burn it out of his system but this? This hurt everywhere! His toes and fingers flexed with the desire to curl, his back ached from between his shoulders all the way down, even his mouth, which wasn’t even a physical construct was aching with a persistent pain. 

None of this mattered though, he needed to peel the vegetables, peel the vegetables. He repeated it over and over in his mind as if the words would build a wall between the pains and himself. It didn’t work but it was a nice rhythm for peeling. 

When finally the last of the mushy vegetables had been peeled he rested his elbows on his knees and bowed his head. At least he’d done something productive today but now… he just really wanted to go back to his tent. He rubbed the sides of his head with his knuckles his eyes sealed for a long time hoping the world would just pass him by. Night couldn’t come fast enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry Grillby I'm sure nothing strange will happen come nightfall :P
> 
> I am hoping this chapter helped clarify some things on the skeleton family's forms? I was worried I wasn't doing a good job explaining them so if it's still kinda muddled let me know!


End file.
